


“I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.”

by evakuality



Series: The research nerd and the storyweaver [4]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, trans Even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 05:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18309518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: “Can I tell you something?” Even asks, and there’s a warmth in his voice, a quality that alerts Isak that he wants to say something special.  He rolls his eyes.  As if Even needs to ask.  As if Isak will ever deny him anything.  As if everything he says to Isak isn’t special and important.“Mmmm,” Isak says, letting his own hand slide up along the arm Even still has connected to Isak’s hair.  His fingers slip inside Even’s loose t-shirt arm and he brushes the soft skin of his shoulder.  Hums in contentment as he feels the shiver Even gives at the touch.  “You can always ask me anything.”“Not ask,” Even says.  “Tell.  I want to tell you something.”





	“I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful.”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank the person who stepped in to beta read this for me. It's very much appreciated <3
> 
> Fits between chapters one and two of 'The research nerd and the man in his life'

Isak’s lying with his head on Even’s lap.  The fingers of his left hand are tucked into Isak’s hair, curling strands absentmindedly as he reads whatever book has taken his fancy this evening.  Even always has at least five books he’s reading, telling Isak when he queries it that this way he’s not going to get bored of any of them. They’re all long and the language is dry and boring and Isak always ends up wrinkling his nose and putting them down immediately whenever he looks into any of them.  But Even enjoys them and his passion for this literature is one of the things Isak finds delightful about him.

Isak smiles up at Even, his attention pulled away from the laptop that’s perched precariously on his chest.   He loves these moments. The little bubbles of time they manage to steal away together, even in the midst of their busy lives.  They may be working, or in Even’s case reading some long boring novel for fun, but they are also both present for each other. Grounded by the physical contact they always try to maintain.

Eskild has sometimes grumbled about how annoyingly coupley they are and the way they always have to be connected if they’re in the same room, but Isak always just laughs and presses closer to Even.  He’s had too many fleeting, meaningless relationships that he kept himself aloof from. Too many guys who were just in it for something physical and never wanted a deeper intimacy. Now that he has Even, and feels very much not-casual about him, Isak likes the feeling of being so close all the time, likes the reminder that this is his life now.  

He sighs happily, draws Even’s gaze to his own and gives a hum of assurance, recognition that he’s seen.  The blue eyes stare at him for a moment as a smile blooms on Even’s face.

“Can I tell you something?” Even asks, and there’s a warmth in his voice, a quality that alerts Isak that he wants to say something special.  He rolls his eyes. As if Even needs to ask. As if Isak will ever deny him anything. As if everything he says to Isak isn’t special and important.

“Mmmm,” Isak says, letting his own hand slide up along the arm Even still has connected to Isak’s hair.  His fingers slip inside Even’s loose t-shirt arm and he brushes the soft skin of his shoulder. Hums in contentment as he feels the shiver Even gives at the touch.  “You can always ask me anything.”

“Not ask,” Even says.  “Tell. I want to tell you something.”

“Even.  You can always do that too.”

He holds Even’s gaze, lets him see the sincerity.  He knows there’s sometimes a vulnerability there. Knows Even occasionally feels awkward saying things because even now, even weeks after they got together, he’s still hesitant to say some things about his identity.  Still has a lingering fear of how his comments may be perceived, of how he may be treated.

“I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re beautiful,” Even says, his voice soft and reverent, and whatever Isak was expecting, it wasn’t that.  He stills. His gaze had been drifting a little, eyes fluttering closed as he listened and enjoyed the feeling of Even’s skin, warm under his fingers. Now he’s focused again, attention on Even’s face and the lines of his jaw and the adoration in his eyes.

“Really?” Isak asks

“Really.” Even nods and his eyes beam a crinkled delight.  His voice is soft and gentle, still reverent. That’s how Isak knows this is real and not just some joke Even’s making, or the precursor to one of his stupid stories.  Isak lets his breath out and closes his eyes.

“I think you’re beautiful too,” he says, smiling.  He tilts his head up again so he can see Even’s face, the beauty in the shape of his chin and the lips he loves.  The gorgeous lines of his cheeks and the way his hair falls over his eyes when it’s soft and loose like it is today.  “I’ve always thought it, but I wasn’t sure if I should say it because … well … it’s usually said to girls.”

Even shrugs.  “Girls don’t get to have all the good stuff all to themselves.”

“You know what I mean,” Isak says, trying not to hold his breath while he waits to see how Even will react.

“I do know,” Even says after a few moments of silence.  “But it’s fine. You’re beautiful, and I’m going to keep saying it, so it’s only fair you get to use it as well.”

Laughing, Isak nods his agreement.  “Okay.” He takes a deep breath, smiles as he looks at Even.  “Okay,” he repeats, taking it in, the knowledge that he can say these things that sit on his heart.  That Even won’t be insulted or offended or whatever else Isak had been worried about. “I still can’t believe I’m this fucking lucky.”

Even traces a path along Isak’s face with the tips of his fingers and hums.  “I don’t think you’re the lucky one here, baby,” he says. He leans down so he can kiss Isak, and the toe curling, stomach-fluttering feeling sweeps Isak from head to toe.  He tightens his grip on Even’s shoulder, tries to keep him in place, wants to live in this moment forever. Because ‘you’re beautiful’ is not something he ever expected to hear and there  _ is _ something special in it.  

Unfortunately, Even decides to read again, picking up his book and flipping to the page he was on.  So Isak reluctantly turns back to his laptop and starts to read more of the lecture he’s been assigned.  He hums softly as Even’s fingers slip back into his hair and resume their soft swirls through his curls. Each curl now seeming to say  _ you’re beautiful _ as it’s released from Even’s grasp.  Isak lets his own left hand slip onto Even’s leg, trailing small circles on his ankle as he reads, trying to convey his own feelings through his fingers as well.  He thinks he might be succeeding if Even’s small murmurs of appreciation are anything to go by.

They drift again into the pleasant space of being together but focused on separate things, but their fingers keep up the litany of their affection as the day slips back into peaceful coexistence.   _ You’re beautiful, _ they say.   _ So are you, _ they respond.

 


End file.
